by Mandi Beck
As the table is cleared of our dinner plates and the desert being set down, Frankie leans into my side and places her head on my shoulder. Turning my face, I kiss the top of her head and squeeze the hand still on my thigh. It’s all so natural that I can’t imagine not being with her like this. I don’t want to. I love that she feels comfortable enough in front of our family, or dads especially since they were the last to be told, to openly show affection. To allow me to love on her and not hide. This is the way it should have been from the start. I regret letting her keep it from anyone. I’ve said it before—she’s mine. I want the world to know and it starts here. This is our world. Nobody really matters outside of these people.
“You ready for your present?” I ask, bringing the hand on my thigh up to my mouth for a quick kiss to the inside of her wrist.
She looks stunned for a moment. “Deac, I didn’t bring yours. I thought we would wait until our actual birthdays.”
“I didn’t want to wait. You can just give me my present in bed tonight,” I whisper in her ear, smiling at the pink that creeps across her cheeks.
“I think that can be arranged. Your present is more for both of us anyway,” she says with a saucy grin filled with promise that has me adjusting myself under the table.
“You keep it up and you know what’s gonna happen, Princess,” I tell her gruffly.
“Yes. Yes, I do,” Frankie answers before kissing me softly, turning her attention to Indie who is standing at the head of the table now.
“Just wanted to thank you all for coming. I realize it’s not the norm for the Princess, but it’s nice to have it only be us here to celebrate. Hope you all enjoyed your meal; it’s on Deac, so I loved the shit out of mine,” Jones says cheekily as she raises her gin and tonic. “Happy birthday to my very best friend and to the biggest pain in my ass. I love you both. Mostly.” Laughing we all respond with a collective “cheers” and clink glasses around the table.
Chatter picks up around us again, but quiets as I pull the gift bag from under my chair. Moving her plate out of the way, I place the present in front of her. “Happy birthday, baby,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. This can go one of two ways, and right now I’m hoping that it goes my way. Her smile beaming, she reaches into the bag and pulls out the small, white, wrapped package with the red wax seal. Glancing at me in startled recognition, eyes wide, she fingers the seal tentatively like she’s afraid to ruin the wrapping.
I hear Indie breath out, “Holy shit,” from her seat at the head of the table and grin.
“Go ahead, open it,” I encourage Frankie, nudging her leg with mine. She nods and slips a fingernail under the seal, breaking it to reveal a red ring box. Her eyes dart to mine and back down as she flips the top to reveal a gold ring set in black velvet. A tiara with diamonds dotting the ends of each peak catching the light from the candles on the table.
It’s almost an exact replica of the one my brothers and I gave her when we were kids for her sixteenth birthday, except this one is from Cartier and not the stand in the mall. Frankie looks up at me with tears in her eyes, slipping to roll down her cheeks. “You remembered. I was so sad when the other one broke.” Her smile is soft, her voice full of emotion as her gaze flicks between me and the little box clutched in her hand.
Reaching over, I pluck it gently from her fingers. Aware that we have an audience, I slip it on her ring finger and watch as her eyes widen a bit. I drop a gentle kiss over the ring. “I remembered how much you loved the original. I hope you’ll love this one as much.” Lips kicked up in a grin, I continue, “It’s a promise ring. A promise that I’ll always be faithful. A promise that I’ll always love you more than anyone else can, and a promise that one day our Princess will be my Queen.” Placing another kiss to the tiara encircling her finger, I lock into her blues and press a kiss to each corner of her mouth before resting over her parted lips. “I promise.” Kissing her deeply, I let her feel the truth in my words. I don’t care that everyone at the table is watching us. All of them a little stunned over what just transpired. They’d better get used to it. This is only the beginning. I plan on keeping every one of these promises and making more along the way.
My girl, my baby, and my belt. None of it will be easy, but it will all be worth it. Stick and move. Stick and motherfucking move.
“Is this what all the hot pregnant chicks are wearing now?” I ask as we make our way to the door of Frankie’s baby doctor. I give her a once over, a wolfish smile spreading across my face. She has on her favorite—and mine—“Hitman” shirt, hanging off one shoulder leaving it bare, jean shorts with pockets longer than the hem, flashing me her ink, and these tiny ass, black, fuck-me heels with the thinnest straps I’ve ever seen. I keep expecting one to snap. My favorite part of this whole outfit though is the fact that her shirt stops above her belly button, exposing her stomach and the obvious bump. That’s my kid in there. Just the thought makes my heart swell with too many feelings to name. Frankie glances down at herself worrying her bottom lip.
“Do I look okay? I mean, I’m showing now. Should I not wear stuff like this? Does it weird you out that everyone can see?” she asks, indicating her stomach and the Love, not so hidden inside.
“Baby, first, you look hot as hell. I’m trying to decide the quickest way into those fuck-hot, little shorts as soon as we get out of here.” I throw her a wink and watch as she tries to fight back her smile. “And two, hell no, it doesn’t weird me out. Show em’ all! Fuck, I wish you’d let me take out a damn billboard! ‘Deacon “The Hitman” Love, knocks up smokin’ hot girlfriend.’ I’d put it all over the damn city,” I joke, pulling her to me and running my hands over that cute as fuck little bump and around, settling them on her lower back, fingers skimming over her ass.
“Girlfriend, huh?” she questions playfully, her hands resting against me. Neck craned, she looks up at me, the sun glinting off the silver band she has holding her hair back.
“Yeah, well, ‘Almost, kinda, one day wifey-girlfriend, even though she loves the cock,’ wouldn’t really fit, Princess.” My teeth sinking into my bottom lip, fighting to keep the laugh I can feel from creeping up.
Laughing, she smacks me in the chest, “You’re such a dick.”
“Did I lie? Tell me you don’t love it,” I challenge her in a low voice. Hips thrust forward in a gentle little nudge, she gasps at the hardness that presses into her. Innocently, I grin, “He loves you too.” A deep belly laugh makes its way past my lips at her expression.
“Oh my God, you’re impossible.” Frankie can’t hold back her laughter any more than I can as we make it to the door. Just as I go to open it, my phone starts with Mav’s ringtone.
“I gotta take this, baby. He’s been in meetings all day with the EWF.” With a small nod, she follows me over to a tree off to the side, offering a little privacy.
“What’s up, brother?”
“Yo. I need you at the EWF offices downtown in an hour,” Mav says.
“No can do. I’m at the doctor with Frankie. We’re just walking in now, not sure how long we’ll be.” I’m not missing this visit. I’m in the gym constantly getting ready for Rude Awakening; who knows when I’d make it back here with her?
“Is she okay?” Worry evident in his voice.
“Yeah, man, she’s fine. Just a regular checkup.”
“Right on. Here’s the thing, little brother. You can’t blow this off. They want to do a shoot with you, try to drum up some good promo since you have all this bad press shit following you everywhere.” He pauses. “Just a quick thing, take some pictures, answer a few questions, and you’re outta there.”
“I’ll be there when I’m done here. She comes first, Mav. Ain’t nothing gonna make me put her on hold while I play nice for the Federation. I didn’t do anything I regret and I wasn’t wrong. It’s all a shitstorm, but if they don’t need me in the Cage in the next hour, they can wait. Tell them you couldn’t get a hold of me, that I’m most likely in the gym training. I’ll be th
ere as soon as I can.”
I’m met with an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, all right. Just get here right after, Deac. They need this, brother. You need this.”
“I feel you. We’ll be there,” I say to him as I guide Frankie out from under the tree and to the door, again.
“See you then. Give the Princess a kiss for me.”
“Oh, I’ll kiss her for you all right. While she’s in those stirrup things, right on her pretty little p—” I chuckle as the line goes dead.
“He hung up on you, didn’t he? At least he’s a gentleman,” she says in mock disappointment.
“What? I’m not a gentleman?” I ask holding the door open for her. She nods in thanks, her lips split in a radiant smile. And then I smack her ass as she passes, earning me a yelp and every set of eyes in the place on us. She shoots me what’s supposed to be a murderous look, but fails miserably, before straightening her shoulders and walking past all of the onlookers. More than one guy in the room checks out my girl while sitting next to their own. Now I’m the one with the murderous look, and mine is right on fucking point. I nail every motherfucker in there with it as I follow behind Frankie. Making them shift uneasily in their seats, dropping their gazes. I see what Frankie looks like—I don’t blame them—but I won’t stand for it either. Especially now when she’s pregnant and when they’re sitting with their women.
At the desk, she is giving the bored, bubble gum popping girl her information. Once she’s all checked in, the girl hands her a little cup and points to the bathroom, giving instructions on what to do when she’s finished.
“You need some help, Princess?” I ask, winking when she shakes her head and points at the room behind us. “I think I can handle this, Deac. Go find us a seat and try not to hurt anybody.” On tiptoes, she lands a kiss on my jaw and sashays away to do her thing.
Clearing her throat, the bubble gum chewer extends a clipboard for me to take. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she gives me a flirtatious smile, her eyes taking me in from head to toe.
“You ever got your ass beat by a pregnant chick?” I ask, glancing down at the papers she’s handing me. That gets her attention. Eyes wide as saucers now, she shakes her head no. “Keep that shit up,” I twirl my finger at her in a little circle, “Today will be the day. I’ll have my girl fill these out.” I turn from the window, dismissing her and her advances, and make my way to an empty loveseat in the corner. Nodding at women in all phases of pregnancy as I pass. Too many of them staring back at me with dreamy expressions. Holy fuck, this place is insane. Staring down, I concentrate on not making eye contact with any of these hormone-crazed women until I feel the cushion next to me dip with Frankie’s presence.
“You okay, baby?” Concern creasing her brow, she brushes a strand of hair that escaped my bun behind my ear.
“Yeah, Princess Just don’t leave me alone in here again,” only half kidding, I plead. Confused, she looks at me questioningly. “Here just fill these out.” I push the clipboard at her, ignoring her curious glances. “When you bring that back up there, don’t be too nice,” I whisper as she moves to return the paperwork.
“She hit on you?” she hisses incredulously. I just give her the big-eyed stare, the one with the slow blink that her and Indie always give me. “I may have told her you would beat her ass if she kept it up. So yeah, don’t be all nice and shit.”
Her eyelids flutter shut. “Can I take you anywhere?” She surprises me by laughing. Shrugging, I reach for her, my hand on her nape, dragging her closer so that I can put my lips on her and taste that smile. “I am fucking you so dirty when we get out of here. You know that, right?” The words fall from my mouth into hers as I nip at her bottom lip, slowly drawing it into my mouth and sucking. My other hand comes up to cradle the side of her face, the calloused thumb playing at the corner of her mouth. Just as I’m about to deepen the kiss, I hear her name being called. Pulling away, I smile at the glazed over look in her eyes.
“That’s us, baby.” With the clipboard tucked under my arm I stand, reaching a hand out to help Frankie up. As we walk by the receptionist, I hand her the forms, her eyes shifting to Frankie a little nervously. Chuckling, I walk with Frankie into the back where they weigh her, take her vitals and shit, before ushering us into an exam room and leave us alone. Helping her up onto the tall table, I snatch up her hand and place a kiss to my spot. “Have you not seen this doctor yet?” I question.
“No, I saw the one out of Rush at first and called my usual doctor for a referral because he doesn’t deliver babies anymore,” the crinkly paper under her loud in the otherwise quiet room. “A dude? Your crotch doctor is a guy?” I ask, appalled, and I’m not gonna lie, a little jealous.
Frankie snorts out a laugh. “He’s called a gynecologist, ass. And yes, he’s a ‘dude.’ I prefer them; I think they’re gentler,” she says, like it’s no big deal that once a year she has some guy, who isn’t me, poking around in her lady biz.
“This is a woman though, right?” It’s not really a question and now she’s the one who is giving me the big-eyed look with the slow blink. “Are you fucking kidding me, Princess?” My voice is raised a little, the thought of what this dude is gonna see, all while I stand in the room, making me feel a little crazed.
“Oh, calm down, Deac. He’s a doctor, and just think, you can ask him all the ridiculous questions I’m sure you have without being embarrassed.” Smiling at me like she’s just given me a prize.
“Have you ever in the history of knowing me, ever seen me be embarrassed by anything? And I don’t have questions. My ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ app tells me all I need to know,” I inform her, rather proud of myself.
“Did you just say the ‘who’s your daddy app,’ really?” Her eyebrows shoot straight up into her hair, her mouth dropped open.
“You better close that pretty mouth, before I put something in it.” Hand going to my cock, I throw her a wicked grin. Before she can answer, there’s a soft knock at the door and in walks the doctor. Oh hell motherfucking no. My head swivels to Frankie, her eyes avoiding mine. You bet your ass they’re avoiding mine. The man that just walked in the door is in his mid-thirties, built like a fucking brick shit house, and looks like a goddamn movie star. And she knows it.
“Miss De Rosa, how are you?” Doc Hollywood extends his hand, prompting me to take a step closer to her. “My name is Dr. Dean,” he says, sandwiching her hand between the two of his. Frankie still hasn’t looked at me and I still haven’t taken my eyes off her. She feels my gaze burning into the side of her face, I’m sure of it.
“Hi,” she replies, in a breathless tone. No fucking way.
Clearing my throat, I hold out my hand. “Deacon Love. I did that,” I say, jutting my chin in Frankie’s direction. Not missing the strangled sound that leaves her mouth. Doc Hollywood chuckles.
“Yes, I can see that.” Taking my hand in a firm grip, I have to fight myself not to squeeze until I feel bones crack. “I’m a huge fan, Mr. Love. I messed around with a little boxing in high school and college. Chicks dig scars, right?” he asks, smiling at me and pointing to the scar cutting through his bottom lip.
“Not my chick.” Arms crossed over my chest, I glance over at Frankie when she punches me on the arm.
“Good thing my wife does then.” He makes his way over to the sink and washes up, glancing over his shoulder. “She works here in the office, you’ll meet her I’m sure. She’s a fan as well. Though I think she likes your ink and hair more than your Muay Thai.” Laughing again, he plops down on a wheeled stool rolling closer to us. “Okay, so we know that you did this, do we have an idea of when?” Frankie is bright red and I’m sure ready to kill me.
“The doctor that I saw at Rush last month said she thought I was around ten to twelve weeks. Hard to tell exactly since I’d had an IUD implanted, or so I thought. She couldn’t find it, so assumed that it wasn’t placed correctly and fell out. She did a sonogram and verified that it wasn’t there.
“Regardless, it
had been about eight weeks since the last time I’d had sex, so going off that and the measurements, that’s what she came up with.” As she talks, he takes notes, listening intently. When she finishes, he looks at me. “No sex between fights? My trainer had the same rule. I hated it.”
I glance at Frankie. “Nah, my brothers don’t bother with that. I fucked up and the Princess showed me the door.” My voice is casual, my feelings aren’t though. “She’s fierce, my girl.” Winking at her I turn back to Hollywood.
“Guess she’d have to be,” the doc says as he stands and moves to Frankie’s side. Again, making me step closer to her as well. I can’t help it. The thought of him putting his hands on her is driving me mad. “Is it okay if I call you Francesca or do you prefer Miss De Rosa?” he asks as he rubs his hands together, like he’s about to start a fire. He can fuck off with that shit. No fires will be started in here.
“Frankie is fine,” the Princess says, smiling prettily at him.
“All right then, Frankie, can you lie back for me so I can take a look at what I’m working with.” His tone is gentle as he helps her lie back. Once she’s lying down, he places his hands on her belly, pushing and prodding, feeling for what, I’m not sure. I get why he was warming his hands now though. From a drawer on the table, he pulls out a measuring tape and a little machine that looks like a microphone and old ass tape deck. Eyes on Frankie, I watch as he measures her belly and writes her numbers in the chart. “Hmm, judging by your measurements, I would say that you’re a little further along than that. We’ll make an appointment for an ultrasound to get a firm due date, okay? It’s not unusual to measure bigger or smaller, so nothing to worry about.” Frankie nods. “You should be far enough along now to hear the baby’s heartbeat with this,” Doc Hollywood tells us as he presses the wand to her stomach, moving around until a rapid thumping amidst a ton of white noise fills the room. “That, you guys, is your baby’s heartbeat. It sounds great, very strong.”